On the Horizon

The news had called it the storm of the century. It had been slowly building for the last couple of days out over the Atlantic Ocean. Just churning upon itself. Swirling into something so massive meteorologists had trouble classifying it. As a kid, he just looked forward to the amount of snow it was supposed to bring their way. Not just inches. Feet. Some specialists were predicting up to five, even in the urban areas, possibly more out in the suburbs. He couldn't even fathom how much snow that would be. He was born in the city, raised there. Snow had always been a part of winter, but never near to this extent. He'd go to bed watching snowflakes just beginning to fall only to wake to plowed streets covered in layers of salt, gutters filled with slush, and sidewalks wiped clean.

With how worried all the adults were becoming, he had high hopes that things would change. He'd go to bed, waking in the morning to hear that school was closed due to the weather. That there was just too much snow for the plows or that it was too cold for the buses to start their engines. Maybe even his teacher would be snowed in. Stuck in their building, unable to make it to school. There really were endless possibilities.

But somewhere deep down inside, he was worried. He hadn't seen his parents so concerned with weather before. They had garaged their cars, stockpiled the kitchen with supplies. The cabinets were full of cans - soups and vegetables, packets of dry milk. Anything that was easy to prepare. In the spare room they had stacked packages of water. Candles were spread throughout the house - in every imaginable spot. He was even more confused when he came home from school last week to see his dad adding additional locks to their door. The news had mentioned that after today, the city was being shut down. The storm itself was only supposed to last for a few days but its effects were to linger. All citizens were warned not to go outside at all. While the storm descending upon the city, everyone was on their own. There was no help.

Looking out his window, all he really wanted to do was go outside. Play in the snow that was already on the ground. Feel it crunch beneath his boots. Call his friends out into the drifts and start a massive snowball fight. A free-for-all where no one was safe. They could run through the city. Have full reign. Everyone was already inside. They could hide amongst cars, behind streetlights, in doorways.

He just wanted the city to be his playground.

Off in the distance, he could see it coming. Not a fog or a haze. Unlike anything he had seen before. Just a wall of white, making its way down the street ever so slightly. Taking its time. Crawling. Engulfing everything it touched. He could see the debris churning and swirling inside of it as it approached. Whole buildings seemed to disappear. Pulled into the mass. He could hear car alarms going off in the distance. As he strained himself to listen, the city was absolutely silent. All that he could hear was the howling wind.

Without realizing it, the front of the storm was upon him. Only a block away. For some reason, a moment before it hit his building he held his breath. It felt right. And just like that - his room was thrown into darkness. The outside world blotted out. He could hear the chunks of ice and snow bouncing off his window. He could feel the wind shake the walls, the change in pressure as the storm bore down on the building. As he backed out of his room, hoping to find his parents in the den, he wondered. 

How long it would last?